I Can Wait
by Mon3lisa
Summary: I thought he loved me. [RoyEd & Onesided Elricest]


I Can Wait

Summary: I thought he loved me. [RoyEd & One-sided Elricest

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa

Rate: G

Warnings: One-shot. Angst, character death.

Author's comments: So this is another poorly written fic, whoopee-doo -o- It was supposed to be a One-Shot about the 520 cenz promise from the manga that got broken because Ed died (woah, it almost became RoyEd!! XDD) but I'm not a RoyEd fan in the first place (but I'm amused by the idea, that's all) and second, my love for angsty one-sided Elricest pwned all other thoughts of making this non-Elricest and before I knew it, I finished this ficcy with my eyes nearly brimming with tears (I'm not kidding, unfortunately you guys might not be able to feel the way I felt while writing this since I can barely explain about anything for not even a penny T-T).

Bet the beginning was confusing to you, and for that I apologize. I'm still not sure how to make it sound like the audience already knows what the first person is talking about while they're narrating, you know?

PS: I absolutely HATE endings; I SUCK AT THEM!!! DX

* * *

…I thought he loved me. 

But it was only me. Just me and my young hopeless mind. I fantasized the happiest "possibility" and I held on to it; hoping that my patience and my long wait will reward me with this one single wish.

But it was only me.

Maybe he felt that way too sometime ago, with the same person for the same reasons. He was…He _is_ beautiful. I wouldn't be surprised if the creatures under the ground were clawing away at his coffin and trying to eat away at his flowing blond hair and his smooth pale skin and get a touch of his whole body much like I wanted to.

Maybe he feels that way too.

Maybe he wants to claw away at the dirt too and retrieve his body and shower it with…oh, all the things I ever wanted to give him. My hands, my lips, my kisses, my love, my life…but he probably most of those things to him already. Maybe during those nights when he said, "Al, I'll be gone for a while so just stay put for a few hours, 'kay?" And I would nod, my head creaking and clanking in the process, its sounds disturbing my small "yes" as I watched him walk out of the door. I was so stupid, what was I thinking? I thought that he was just going to take a walk and while he was patrolling the streets he was doing a few things he couldn't bring himself to reveal to me.

Those hours alone were spent daydreaming that he was thinking about me and what we'd do when we get our bodies back. That he ducked into a secret alley where he can quietly pleasure himself while imagining my voice speaking to him and telling him that I loved him over and over. That he imagined lips brushing his own and trailing over his hot cheeks while he was hissing that he's almost there, please do more Al…

It somewhat made sense that I imagined all that, because when he came back from wherever he was he looked spent. And sweetly tired. His eyelids slowly failing his determination to stay awake and it's only during those 'walks' that he wouldn't face me when he slipped out of his pants and his vest and go to sleep in his boxers; a sight that I imagine would've shown what he was secretly doing. Afterwards, he'd fall on the mattress and moan something contentedly. Then he showed a sleepy smile that makes me feel warm all over.

I guess I was wrong.

He probably spent those hours with him, and that's the only reason why he is standing next to me with a small sad smirk on his face. He's saying something, I ought to listen…

"-ack my 520 cenz."

Oh. Right.

"Colonel…" I turn my head towards him, and a flickr of reflected light from my wet cheeks meet his black midnight eyes. Maybe that's why he loved him, those black eyes would've impressed him…

"When…When he d-died…" I stutter, my voice getting high and my breath hitching and heating up. I look down at my feet, and I study my dirt-covered pants, trying to find an explanation in the cracks of the combination of water and rock particles. Why am I telling him? Why did he tell me?

"He…He told me, 'Tell that bastard that I'm sorry I couldn't pay him back…tell him, Al, that…I…I-I…'" Ah, my whole body is shaking. I'm too clogged up, I can't breathe. I can't fall on my knees again, I have to stay strong. I have to tell him, his last wish…I have to…

His hands are on my shoulders now. Hands that touched him before. "It's okay, Alphonse, it's okay…"

No it's not.

I let the tears squeeze out of my eyes as my brow furrows in so hard it's starting to ache. But my lips are pulled together too and it takes a lot of willpower not to double over and fall. I want to throw my head back and scream my lungs out. Why, Brother, why!? WHY!?? WHY did you love him!?? Why not me!? Why did you let him, who only waited for you for five years instead of fifteen like I did, why did you let him have you?? Wasn't I enough!? Was fifteen too much!? Was that _it_!? Was I too in love with you for you to return all that love I had inside of me all along!? ANSWER ME, Brother!! BROTHER!!

I take in a raspy wheezy breath and I finally let go, falling on the dirt and letting my forehead touch the cold smooth marble. I stare long and hard at the big 'R' for "EDWARD". Dead. He's dead. He's not going to come back, he's gone. He's gone and I never told him. I never told him how I felt, I never told him how much…oh, _how much_ I loved him. How long I've waited for you and not for myself. Why are you gone? WHY ARE YOU GONE!?

Something is smoothing my back and I look up and realize that the Colonel's still there. Oh, God, he didn't hear me did he? He didn't…I-I didn't say that whole thing out loud, did I? _Did I??_

"I'm sorry Alphonse. I'm sorry…" I stay put, rigid, against that cold marble. I should say something…but what? I only see one thing and I can only take in what he's saying. Why am I suddenly speechless? R, R, R…"He was…a good man." He's saying flatly, now rounding his arm around my shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't notice that you had…feelings for him as much as I did. If I knew…believe me, I wouldn't have…have…"

I duck my head and I shrug off his arm. Just as fast as it came it was now gone. I can breathe again. I stand up and wipe my cheeks for the millionth time and I can only mumble, "If you were the one he wanted, then that's the way it is. There's no changing it. But still…I was so stingy that I…I…waited for him instead of...of…"

Did I say 'waited' or 'wanted'?

He's getting up now, and he faces the stone. He's not even crying, he's too adult to do that. While I'm just a kid, his younger brother. His younger, stupid, selfish brother.

"The way it is, huh?" He smiles and pats the head of the stone. I grow stiff at that contact, suddenly hating how that touch seemed far more valuable than all the tears I let fall upon that stone. "He wouldn't have liked that. He'd have wanted you to not feel sorry, and that blaming yourself and him dying isn't the 'way it is'."

He gently caresses the stone and I wonder briefly how my brother sounded and looked like when those fingers of fire made patterns on his skin. I wish again that it was me, and again more tears fall and my chest contracts painfully. "He'd have wanted you to move on and not regret the things you didn't do in the past because you can't change that now. You are who you are today because of the mistakes and successes you've done in the past. Who knows, Alphonse." He's turning his head to me. Why is he giving me a sad smile now? "Maybe if you had told him before, nothing would have changed."

He's right.

Knowing Brother, he might have ignored my confession. Actually, he might have acknowledged it, go quiet, and just repeat his old promise once more but with more determination. Nothing would have changed, he would've understood but wouldn't have tried to make it an issue. Even if I told him when I had my body back, he'd just pretend that I was saying a sappy brotherly line and he'd clap my back and laugh and tell me he loved me too, silly, why are you getting so worked up on it? C'mon, Al, let's go get some ice cream or something. How about it?

He wouldn't have turned me away. He would've reassured me and stay with me until I forget that I loved him more than I should be. Until I'd think, "How dumb of me. To think I was so desperate for affection that I turned to the only person who did!" He'd have helped me grow out of my feelings for him without doing anything. And I might have even if I didn't tell him. So it doesn't matter if I didn't tell him or not, because…maybe soon I'll find someone else. Maybe I'll get married and get kids and live as a retired Alchemist or something. Maybe Brother would've liked that.

Maybe…Maybe he already knew.

The glow of the sunset feels so warm on my face, Brother. Even though I would've liked it to be your lips shadowing my own and enveloping me in this bliss moment of warmth, it still feels like you're here with me right now.

I love you, Brother. I wonder if…you were happy with him. Even if it wasn't me that you gave your most happy face to, I wonder. No, I hope that you were happy with him. Did you smile just as much as the day you retrieved me? Did you get to have that sensation of security and love just as much as I did when you cradled me for the first time in your arms? Did you get to tell him that you loved him?

I hope you did, Brother. Because all those moments that you've looked at me like you truly loved me are forever treasured in my heart, and it makes me feel warm all over when I remember them. I hope you managed to remember one last happy memory with him before you passed away. I hope you died happy, even if it wasn't because of me. Brother, when I die, I'll make sure the last image I'll see before I join you is your smiling face.

That's all I'll live for now. I'll wait for another fifteen years. Twenty. Thirty. Fifty. A hundred years. I can wait…just to see your smile again.


End file.
